AUTHOR’S NOTE: My long-time followers know that I’m skeptical of remote tarot reading because the querent has no direct contact with the cards for the purpose of subconscious induction, my fundamental understanding of “how tarot works.” But with a little tweaking of the parameters, that attitude may be shifting.

Recently, while reading about experiments in “distant intention” in Supernormal, parapsychologist Dean Radin’s exploration of the yoga sutras, I picked up on another technique that could have potential for enhancing client engagement, while also reducing the need for one-sided intuitive speculation and replacing it with a form of telepathic union. I’ve always felt that one is as “squishy” as the other from an analytical standpoint but I’m willing to listen to paranormal science.

Distant intention assumes that the focused thoughts of one person can influence the mental (and even physiological) state-of-being for another person who is a considerable distance away with no physical link between them; the effect is instantaneous and suffers no delays of the time-over-distance kind. The study used “remote healing intention” for cancer patients similar to prayer but non-religious in nature. In my opinion, the key point was that the mental energy was consciously targeted by the “sender” and not just floating around in the ether for mystical uptake by the intended “receiver” or anyone else who sought to tap into it.

In my own practice, I came to terms with remote reading by having my clients shuffle their own cards and let me know what they pulled or, if they have no deck, telling them to select a random set of numbers from 1 to 78 and I will shuffle one of my personal decks for the draw. But I tend to forget these options when I’m approached for an online reading and just pull the cards locally, with results that have been as spotty as I’ve always assumed they would be. Here I’m proposing another approach.

Before I conduct a remote reading, I always communicate with the seeker electronically to explain my methods and discover the topic of interest for the divination. Instead of having them use cards or numbers as described above, I will request that they set aside a period of time to concentrate intently on the question, letting me know right before they start so I can keep my “psychic feelers” extended for the incoming signal (aka distant intention). This concentration can last as long as they feel is necessary (similar to the “How long should I shuffle?” decision), and they will advise me when they’re done. I will in turn immediately concentrate on their unspoken input while shuffling and pulling the cards for the reading.

This will require coordination and commitment but it solves the problem of the sitter remaining totally aloof and inert during the card-selection process, and it should result in a more effective remote communion with the cards. As I see it, the more involved they are the closer the reading will come to their own subconscious awareness of their private reality, which the cards will mirror as reflected in our subliminal connection.

It is obviously not as good as having them in the room and handling the deck, but it should be serviceable. Once again, I prefer tarot as an interactive art, not a long-distance guessing-game, but – given advances in parapsychological research – there are ways acceptable to the analytical diviner that minimize subjective prejudice. While describing the more close-minded of conventional scientists, Dr. Radin notes that they adhere to “the powerful biasing effects of (their) adopted beliefs” and thus “perceive their predilections” when conducting research (they see in the results only what they expected to see). I would argue that the same conditioned response is inherent in all hands-off, entirely unilateral remote tarot reading unless special considerations are brought to bear as I’ve suggested in this essay.